Even and Odd

by Sarah Beth Durst

  “You mean crowded?”

  “I mean incredible.”

  “Guess so,” Jeremy said. “My parents send me on errands sometimes. They think it keeps me from daydreaming about living far away.” He snorted, as if to say how pointless their efforts were.

  Gawking at a half elephant, half tiger, Even tried to imagine what it would have been like to grow up surrounded by this much magic. If her parents hadn’t moved to the most boring town in Connecticut, what would her life have been like? Working in the border shop, she’d seen a lot of magical beings, but this . . . Everywhere she turned, she saw another creature who looked as if he or she had walked, flown, or slithered straight out of her dreams. “I don’t get why you don’t see how amazing this place is.”

  “Eh, it’s home. How can I be impressed with home?”

  Even waved her hand at all of it. “You aren’t impressed with this?”

  “Are you impressed with your cars and traffic lights and dumpsters? Not to mention soda and Farmcats cards? You don’t see how amazing your world is.”

  Odd spoke up. “I do. Even, you still want to go home, right? You’re worrying me.”

  Glancing at her, Even saw she had water pooling in her eyes. “Of course I want to go home!” She wanted that just as badly as Odd did. Odd had to know that.

  Or maybe she didn’t know that. After all, it wasn’t a secret that Even had wanted to come back to Firoth and see the world she could barely remember. And it is as wondrous as I dreamed, she thought.

  Beside them, a giant otter scampered along the sidewalk. Miniscule griffins darted from window ledge to window ledge. Trees with flowers that resembled bells lined the street. Vendors were hawking pastries that looked like castles, fruit that shone like jewels, and breads that baked on their plates, rising and browning without an oven. Beneath their carts, pixies—pigeon-size, all-blue fairies with sharp teeth—scavenged for stray crumbs and squabbled over their finds.

  But, as wondrous as it was, Even still wanted to find Lady Vell and go home. Of course she did. Didn’t she? She thought of Mom and Dad. She missed them. And her home—she missed her room, her bed. She even missed their bathroom. And of course she missed their shop. She loved that place with its stuffed shelves and weird mix of magic and mundane.

  A phoenix—a bird with feathers of fire—flew like a comet above the city. Even watched it blaze across the blue-green sky.

  No, she thought, correcting herself. I don’t just want to go home. I want the border to be open and stay open so I can come back.

  I want both.

  “Do we join the line?” Jeremy asked.

  Ahead of them, north of the city, was a tree-edged road. A queue of Firothans—humans, fairies, centaurs, fauns, oversize spiders, and countless others—snaked down it toward a grand estate. At the end of the driveway, a lone silver tower, twisted like a spiral shell, sat amid beautiful gardens and manicured trees.

  “That must be Lady Vell’s estate,” Jeremy guessed. “Let’s find whoever is in charge and tell them we want to talk to Lady Vell.”

  “We can say the unicorns sent us,” Even said.

  “It is true,” Jeremy said.

  It had been Even’s idea to come, but Starry had approved it and Effervescent Spring had suggested Jeremy take them. “If the goat-man’s right, all these people are here for her boards,” Even said. “So we can skip the line since we’re not interested in them.”

  “Well, I’m kind of interested,” Jeremy said.

  Even and Odd dismounted and then, together with Jeremy, walked the length of the line. At the front, blocking the wide-as-a-horse door to the tower, was a centaur. Sweaty, with his hair sticking to his cheeks and his tail swatting at his rump, he was trying to talk to multiple people at once. “I’ll add you to the list,” he said to one; “You can’t jump ahead,” to another; “I can’t make it happen faster, but I’ll add you to the list,” to a third.

  “Excuse me?” Even called, trying to catch the centaur’s attention.

  “Hey! You can’t cut!” the woman who was next in line yelled.

  “Please, we just want to go home,” Odd pleaded.

  “We’re here to talk to Lady Vell,” Even said loudly. “On behalf of the unicorns who live near the border. And ourselves.”

  “I’ll add you to the list,” the centaur said, tired.

  “You can’t just let them cut!” the woman said. “I’ve been waiting for hours!”

  Even pleaded with the centaur. “The border gateways are closed, and we’re on the wrong side! We’re trying to get home, and we can’t. We were told Lady Vell might be able to help us. Please, can you ask Lady Vell if she’ll see us?”

  “All I can do is add you to the list. Names?”

  “Even and Odd Berry. And this is Jeremy from Unicorn Hill.”

  “Even and Odd? Berry?” the centaur repeated. He squinted at them as if finally seeing them, but Even couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She was glad she wasn’t still a skunk. “Any relation to Janet and Sunny Berry?”

  “They’re our parents!” Odd said. “Do you know them?”

  “Not personally,” the centaur said as he made a note. “You’re on the list.”

  The woman pushed forward. “Not fair! I’m next!” She threw open her cape, and an octopus-like tentacle shot out, aiming to grab the centaur’s list. He reared back, and she missed, instead knocking it out of his hands.

  Concentrating, Even tried to catch the list with her mind, to float it back to the centaur, but she wasn’t the only one with magic. The list flew through the air and landed in the hands of a man a dozen people back. He returned it to the centaur.

  “You will not be added to today’s list,” the centaur told the tentacle woman. “Please do not return until you can act more civilized.”

  Grumbling, the tentacle woman retreated.

  “Please, can’t you help us?” Even asked the centaur.

  “We just want to go home,” Odd said.

  The centaur sighed. “Lady Vell is an important woman with many demands on her time. She distributes gifts through me. She does not receive visitors.” He raised his voice and boomed, using magic to make his words project across the manicured gardens all the way down the tree-lined driveway, “I will present the list to Lady Vell! Those who are chosen will receive boards. The rest of you who did not make today’s list, go home and return tomorrow.”

  “We can’t go home!” Even said. “That’s why we have to talk to her now!”

  But the centaur clopped into the silver tower and shut the thick silver door behind him. Grumbling, the crowd began to disperse. Those who had made the list lingered in hopes of being chosen, while the rest trudged back toward the city.

  “Well, that failed,” Jeremy said.

  “It can’t fail,” Odd cried. “It was our only idea!”

  They stared up at the spiral tower. There were no windows, and the smooth twisted silver reminded Even of a spaceship. It looked impenetrable, even by the atmosphere. She didn’t know if Lady Vell was inside, if she knew there were people who needed her help, if she cared at all.

  At least the centaur put us on the list, she thought. Would he tell Lady Vell they were here for help, not for one of her boards? Would it matter? “We’ll give the centaur a chance to talk to her, and then we’ll try again.” They’d try as many times as it took.

  They waited for the centaur to reappear.

  And waited.

  Some of the magical beings who’d wanted free boards drifted back to the city, but others stayed, hopeful, as Even, Odd, and Jeremy were, that the centaur would open the door again. A few creatures zoomed around on their already-claimed boards, over topiaries and rosebushes, while a six-foot-tall rabbit in a tie adjusted a mirror as if it were a camera recording their tricks. Others milled around in front of the silver tower, in a loose sort of line.

  A blue-skinned man with multiple eyes on his forehead shoved a loaf of bread at Even. “Trade for bread?” He was pulling
a cart piled with baked goods.

  “No thanks.”

  “Blackbird bread,” he said, waving it.

  “Not interested.”

  The bread split, and a bird poked its head through the crust, beak-first. It chirped at Even as it shook off the crust and flew toward the sky, disappearing into the clouds. Several hungry pixies chased after it.

  “Very no thanks,” Odd said.

  The man blinked with all his eyes at once, shrugged, and said, “Suit yourself. But wait here long enough, and you’ll change your mind.” Leaving them, he approached the rabbit with the mirror, who also shooed him away.

  “I’m not waiting long enough to eat that,” Odd said. Marching up to the door, she knocked on it. Even joined her, knocking as well. The door clanged like it was made of metal, like they were thumping on the hood of a car.

  “Lady Vell!” Even called as they knocked. “Please, we need your help!”

  “It’s an emergency!” Odd called.

  No one answered.

  They stepped back. Even rubbed the side of her fist. She’d been knocking so hard that it ached. Maybe the centaur wasn’t going to open the door again. Maybe Lady Vell wasn’t going to agree to see them. Maybe Jeremy’s parents had been right, and they should have stayed at Unicorn Hill and waited for the grownups to figure out how to help them.

  The door slid open a crack, and the centaur poked his head out. “You said you’re the Berry children?” he asked.

  “Yes, that’s us!” Even said. She wondered why he’d recognized their name. It had been surprising enough that Jeremy’s mom knew about them. Just how well known was the story of their split magic? And when had Mom and Dad planned to tell them the truth?

  “Please, we need to speak with Lady Vell!” Odd said.

  “And she would like to speak with you.” Checking to make sure no one else was near, the centaur slid open the door wider. “Please, come inside.”

  13

  Locks snapped into place up the sides and around the top of the enormous door, and Even felt a wiggle of nervousness. She knew the locks were to keep the eager public out, but she couldn’t help noticing that they also kept her, Odd, and Jeremy in. “Lady Vell doesn’t like visitors?” she asked.

  “She prefers her admirers to keep their distracting noise outside,” the centaur said. “I am, in fact, the only one she typically allows within her sanctuary. Her genius requires intense concentration.”

  “My genius requires fresh clover,” Jeremy offered.

  Odd shushed him.

  The centaur led them through a darkened hallway, pushed open another door, and held it for them. Even went first and halted, blinking in the light, as the hallway opened into a vast room with a ceiling hundreds of feet high.

  She took a few more steps inside and ducked as a pink bird swooped over her head. In its wake, the bird left a contrail of sparkling blue that lingered in the air like floating glitter.

  The vast space was filled with rows of laboratory tables. Half of them were filled with bottles and tubes and jars; the rest were piled high with wires, wheels, and scraps of metal. It looked like a cross between a garage, a chemist’s lab, and a modern-art gallery.

  In the center of the lab was a twelve-foot-tall glass vat. It was filled with a bubbling liquid the same color as the bright blue that sparkled in the air.

  “Is it me, or does this all give off a strong ‘mad scientist’ vibe?” Odd murmured behind her.

  “It’s not you,” Even whispered back.

  Clip-clopping across the laboratory, the centaur said, “I will inform Lady Vell of your arrival. Touch nothing.” He disappeared through a doorway that Even hadn’t noticed, on the opposite side of the lab.

  Coming farther in, she approached the vat of bubbling blue. Several of the flying boards were soaking in it. A stack of others lay on a nearby worktable.

  “Whoa, cool,” Jeremy said, trotting up to stare at the boards. “How fast do you think they go? And how do you steer them?”

  “Hey, Even, look at this,” Odd said.

  Even crossed to Odd. She was bending over a worktable that held what looked like a three-dimensional map. Even recognized it from her Academy textbooks. “It’s Firoth.”

  She heard a clatter behind her, and the two girls spun around to see Jeremy standing in the aftermath of an avalanche of flying boards. “Oops,” he said.

  He began to push the boards back into a stack, using his horn and hooves.

  “Try to be more careful,” Odd told him.

  “Sorry.”

  Even and Odd helped him neaten the pile before returning to the map.

  “I think we’re here,” Even said, pointing to where she thought the capital city was. She traced the road they’d taken to New City back to where they’d entered Firoth. The border was marked in red. Towns were labeled in black. She wondered if every town close to the border had its own gateway. “Can we use this to find the other gateways?” she wondered.

  “What would it matter, if they’re all closed?” Odd asked.

  “If Lady Vell can help, then it will matter.” Even reached out to touch the lake in the map and was startled when it felt wet on her fingertip. She stared at it more intently. It almost looked as if . . . “I can see the mermaids!”

  “Really?” Leaning closer, Odd bumped her head against Even’s. They both squinted at the tiny shapes that swam through the miniature lake.

  Behind them, they heard another clatter and then Jeremy: “Sorry, sorry.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Even saw the boards were spilled across the floor again.

  “I’ll clean it up,” Jeremy promised. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Even and Odd turned back to studying the map.

  “Do you think we’re looking at the real lake?” Odd asked.

  “Can’t be,” Even said, reading the label on the town next to it. “The real lake isn’t in Lakeview anymore.”

  “Oh, right. So it’s an inaccurate magic map.”

  It was Firoth as it was supposed to be, with no displaced mermaids or unicorns or goblins or dragons. It’s beautiful, Even thought. “Goal is to make it accurate again. If the border reopens, do you think all the displaced land and creatures will shift back to where they’re supposed to be?”

  “No idea,” Odd said.

  “Maybe Lady Vell will know.”

  At the next table, they saw a stack of dishes and a bucket of blue soapy water. The dishes were dipping themselves into the bucket so hard that they cracked. A towel dried the shattered dishes, and the shards stacked themselves. Beyond that was a table with a pile of dolls. As they walked up to it, one of the dolls waddled across the table toward them. Odd shrieked and jumped back.

  “I wuv you!” it cried in a squeaky voice.

  Arms out, it hugged the air as it toppled off the edge of the table. It landed with a soft whoomp, and the other dolls chorused, “I wuv you!”

  “That could not be more creepy,” Odd noted.

  Finished restacking the boards, Jeremy rejoined them. He shooed one of the dolls away by flicking his tail. “Don’t you have things like that in the mundane world? Toys that move and talk?”

  “Not exactly the same,” Odd said, and shuddered.

  Even spotted a dribble of bright blue on one of the dolls’ mouths. “I think it’s all connected to that.” She pointed to the blue vat.

  “What is that stuff?” Odd asked.

  Both of them looked at Jeremy. He tossed his mane, the equivalent to a shrug. “Never seen it before. Kind of looks like soda. Except not a flavor I’d want to drink.” Losing interest in the blue bubbles, he began examining the various contraptions on the tables.

  Circling the vat, Even saw a tube piping the bubbling blue into it. She followed it toward its source, across the room to a pedestal that held a heart-size black stone, which sparked as if it were electrified.

  “Looks like the blue stuff is coming from over here,” Even called. “Not sure how a stone mak
es fizzy blue soda, though. Weird.” She felt like she’d seen the black stone before. She couldn’t explain it, but there was something so familiar about it. She had a strange feeling that the stone belonged to her, even though she was positive she’d never owned a magically sparking rock.

  Odd joined her. “Looks like it’s surrounded by . . . well, it kind of looks like a force field. Do magical force fields exist?”

  “I don’t know,” Even said. “That’s way beyond level-five magic.”

  The air around the pedestal shimmered, as if the stone were encased in a giant bubble, blocking her from coming any closer than five feet. Tentatively, she reached out a finger, wondering if it would pop—

  A voice said behind them, “Fascinating.”

  Jumping, both Even and Odd spun around to face an elegant woman in a silk robe with fur at its cuffs. She wore a necklace of fist-size bubbles, each with a drop of bright blue suspended in the center. Diamonds dotted her cheeks, as if glued to her skin, and her hair was pinned back with an assortment of tools: screwdrivers, wrenches, tiny hammers.

  “I had wondered if you two little darlings would be drawn to the power stone someday, by curiosity if nothing else,” the woman said, “and here you are. Do you remember it? You were very young, so it wouldn’t be surprising if you don’t.”

  “Lady Vell?” Even guessed.

  “But of course. And you must be, as you’re so charmingly known, Even and Odd.” She smiled at them as if they were the most delightful sight she’d seen all day. “Which is which? And is it an even day or an odd day? I assume it does not follow the calendar?”

  “Even, and it’s my day,” Even said. As proof, she concentrated on one of the nearby dolls. Rising into the air, it waved its cloth hand and repeated, “I wuv you.”

  Lady Vell clasped her hands to her heart. “Adorable! I do not understand why children haven’t warmed to them. You think they’re precious, don’t you?”

  The sisters exchanged glances.

  “Sure,” Odd said.

  “They’d give me nightmares,” Jeremy volunteered.

  Both Even and Odd glared at him.

  Lady Vell pretended he hadn’t spoken. “They come already powered. The owner simply has to bring it back for recharging every few weeks. It is perfect for the child who lacks their own magic.” She swept her arms out wide to encompass the whole of her workshop. “That is the aim of much of what you see here: pre-powered conveniences and delights, to be enjoyed either by those who cannot afford to expend the extra magic or by those who have no magic to begin with.” She frowned as a dish shattered in the nearby bucket and the pieces stacked themselves neatly on a pile of broken plates. “Of course, some refinements are needed, but such is the price of progress. You’ve seen my transportation devices?”